Dawn of the Apocalypse: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel Read Online Free Page A

could even feed the boys that morning.  So I fired up the propane stove and put a tea kettle on the burner.  There wasn't any milk, so I couldn't give them cereal.  Fortunately, they considered instant oatmeal a treat.
                Setting out two paper bowls, I dumped a packet into each.  Brown sugar and apple was their favorite.  When the tea kettle began to whistle, I turned off the stove and poured boiling water into the bowls.  After stirring, I let them set and absorb the water.
                "Timmy!  Harlan!" I called from the back door.  Their little faces turned toward me.  "Come here!  Breakfast!"
                And they came a running.  A smile spread across my face.  Some things should never change.
                After a glance at the dark smoke to the south, I turned back to putting everything up.  When I opened the coat closet, I spotted the pile of packs on the floor inside.  There were two large packs, one for Roger and one for me, and two smaller, bright red book bags for the boys.  That reminded me to put together bug-out bags.  Just in case.
                "Woo-hoo!  Oatmeal!" Timmy cried as he climbed into his chair.
                Harlan sat opposite him at the small round table.  Feelings of peace and well-being flowed through me.  What was it about my children being so happy that made me tingle?  Every time.
                Pap.  Pap-pap-pap.
                My heart stopped.  I couldn't breathe.  The boys looked up with curious faces, too young to understand the danger.  They looked to me for answers, before more gunfire drew their eyes to the front windows.
                "Stay in the cabin," I said, rushing to close and lock the back door.  "Don't let anyone in except me."
                I grabbed the 30-30, which was my personal hunting rifle.  Opening up a box of ammo, I filled my front pockets.  After ensuring I had the keys, I locked the front door before stepping out and closing it.
                "I'll be right back," I told the boys.  "I just want to find out what is going on."
                If we were being attacked by zombies, I needed to know.  My parents didn't raise me to be the shy retiring type.  As Daddy always said, the best defense is an offense.
                Our cabin was higher than most.  In fact, there were only two others higher up the mountain than ours.  One was owned by an elderly couple from Arlington, Virginia, that I'd never met.  The other belonged to a retired military man, Sean Andrews.  A Marine.  I barely knew him.  Roger had actually gone hunting with Sean a few times.  As I recalled, he lived up there.  He got the cabin and his ex-wife got the house in Marietta in their divorce.
                I moved quickly, but cautiously down the steep street.  The road twisted and turned through the heavily wooded mountain terrain.  After a few minutes I started to regret not driving.
                Pap.  Pap.  Pap-pap-pap.
                It sounded like pistol fire to me.
                Rounding a corner, with an overlook to the entrance to the development, I stopped and saw them.  My heart sank to see zombies.  Was there any escaping them?
                Three older men were fighting the zombies.  Two of them had pistols, and the third was using a baseball bat.  I was surprised how effective he was with that bat, too.  Apparently bashing in their brains did kill zombies, but he had to hit them many times to accomplish it.
                Dropping to my belly, I snugged the rifle butt to my shoulder and took careful aim.  Three zombies, two of which looked like teenage boys, were going after the man with the bat.  For some reason he was the one closest to the zombies.  Aiming at the center of the zombies closest to him, I squeezed off a